Tokyo Bay

by Anthony Grey

  ‘Good luck, master! May the kami protect you.’

  Sentaro called out his farewell in English; then, his face fixed in a grimace of sadness, he sat unmoving beside the rock watching the silhouette of Eden and his horse merge gradually into the ink-black landscape of hills and trees that reached all the way to the horizon.

  22

  ON THE MORNING of Saturday 9 July 1853, dawn broke over Yedo Bay with a sparkling clarity The first rays of the rising sun chased away a few remaining tendrils of coastal mist, and the unruffled surface of the bay was soon reflecting as sharply as any mirror the outlines of the four American warships that were drawn up side by side with their heavy guns aimed towards the land. In the early light the uneasy sentries and lookouts, who had kept vigil on the ships through the long night, became fully aware for the first time of the striking grandeur of the shores from which they had been nervously anticipating an attack.

  Slanting horizontally across the water from the east, the warm sunshine illuminated high coastal cliffs of grey rock on the western margins of the bay. Beyond them successive ranges of green hills rolled inland, intersected here and there by the gleam of a fast-flowing river or stream. Higher up the bay, towards the capital, the same coast vas more intensely cultivated, and from the ships small towns and villages could be seen on either side of the water.

  The eastern shore, more barren and mountainous, had a wild, uninhabited appearance, but in the crystal-clear atmosphere of the early day every detail of the landscape was sharply discernible. Some of the tiny wood-and-paper houses in the town of Uraga, closest to the ships, were seen to have pyramidal roofs; some were square; others, apparently whitewashed, had peaked roofs more familiar to American eyes. Around the inlets and harbours, fishing junks with distinctive bat-wing sails ‘were moored in groups, and in the quiet dawn a rare natural harmony seemed to exist between the landscape and the visible signs of its human inhabitants.

  ‘We’re standing at the gates of a country that’s as beautiful as it is dangerous, Mr. Harris,’ said Samuel Armstrong, appearing silently beside the young midshipman who had been posted at the port-bow gangway. ‘This morning the “Land of the Rising Sun” seems to be arrayed in its full glory.’

  The greying hair of the missionary-interpreter was still tousled from sleep, and he rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn before raising a long telescope to survey the coastline in detail. The midshipman, whose eager young face was showing signs of strain, heaved a loud sigh of relief.

  ‘I was mighty glad to see the dawn, Mr. Armstrong, sir.’ He flexed his stiffened shoulder muscles and shifted the cutlass in his belt to a more comfortable position. ‘It’s a been very long night.’

  The drums and war gongs which had throbbed through the hours of darkness were still audible but, although Armstrong searched diligently with his telescope, he could not locate any visible source of the clamour. Along the nearest beaches he could see long files of uniformed soldiers manoeuvring at the water’s edge, carrying banners, pikes and longbows. Marching and counter-marching in groups, they appeared to be moving purposefully between the forts on the higher headlands. Other detachments, drawn up in stationary ranks at intervals along the beaches and cliffs, were gazing watchfully towards the ships. The large fleet of guard-boats, which had swarmed around the squadron on its arrival the previous evening, was still standing offshore, fully manned, keeping the warships under surveillance from a distance of three or four hundred yards.

  ‘I’ve heard a rumour going around among the seamen that we may have lost a man overboard in the night,’ continued Midshipman Harris, speaking quietly so as not to be overheard. ‘Did you hear anything about that, Mr. Armstrong?’

  The missionary looked quizzically at the trainee officer, then shook his head. ‘No, Mr. Harris, I’ve heard nothing of that.’

  After scrutinizing the canvas-shrouded forts on the cliffs one by one, the missionary lifted his glass slowly to inspect the forested hills that rose above the western coastline. Their contours shimmered a deep, thrilling green that contrasted sharply with the frowning escarpments of bare rock rising steeply on either side of the harbour town of Uraga. High in the western heavens, Armstrong suddenly noticed that Mount Fuji towered with great dignity over the whole spectacular scene. In the dawn glare, the cloak of snow blanketing the summit’s northern ravines glittered with the brilliance of diamonds, and through his glass old fissures, scoured deeply into its sides by ancient eruptions, were dramatically visible.

  ‘Their sacred mountain is truly magnificent,’ sighed the old missionary, lowering the telescope. ‘It’s the crowning glory of a peerless morning...’

  At that moment one of the Susquehanna’s armed cutters hit the flat water on the starboard side of the ship with a loud smack. Ropes shrieked in their davits and when Armstrong moved forward to look over the side, he saw that the fighting boat was crewed by seamen fully armed with carbines, pistols and cutlasses. Its brass howitzer cannon stood primed in the bows, and raucous shouts of encouragement rang out from those remaining on the ship as the boat settled on the water. Its oarsmen immediately began pulling hard towards the shore, and muffled shouts echoing across the bay made Armstrong aware that other armed cutters had been launched simultaneously from the Plymouth, the Saratoga and the Mississippi. Within a short time the small, aggressive looking flotilla had formed up and was heading steadily in the direction of the beaches.

  ‘What purpose are the boats to serve, Mr. Armstrong, sir?’ queried the midshipman, in an alarmed tone. ‘Are we making some sort of attack already?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied the missionary glancing apprehensively towards the quarterdeck. ‘But I can see Lieutenant Rice up there at die rail, so I’m going up to find out.’

  Retracting his telescope and tucking ii away in a pocket, Armstrong hurried up one of the port ladders. When he reached the quarterdeck he found that Rice was following the progress of the cutters closely through his own glass. After greeting him, Armstrong stood patiently beside the officer, watching in silence as the boats continued to move confidently towards the shore.

  ‘Isn’t it dangerous to send boats so close to their forces on the beach?’ asked the interpreter at last in a worried tone.

  ‘Perhaps, Mr. Armstrong,’ replied Lieutenant Rice flatly. ‘But they’re following Commodore Perry’s orders to the letter. Do you see what they’re doing?’

  Armstrong noticed then that a single seaman had risen to his feet in the bows of each craft. At each boat’s length these standing men were swinging leads into the water to take depth soundings, while other seamen noted the results on charts spread across their knees. With each sounding, the cutters shifted nearer to the lines of Japanese fighting men watching balefully from the shore.

  ‘This might easily provoke conflict, Lieutenant.

  Those men on the beach look to me as if they’re in a mood for war. Is it really worth such a risk?’

  ‘The commodore has decided to pile on the pressure: replied Rice shortly. ‘It’s a very simple tactic.’

  ‘How exactly does he intend to achieve this end?’

  Rice continued to study the Japanese movements through his telescope. ‘The Japanese are to be told today that we’ll land a big invasion column to deliver the President’s letter to the Emperor by force, if necessary. So the commodore wants them to see us taking detailed soundings all along the coast. That way they’ll know we’re making serious preparations to move the squadron further up the bay, to threaten their capital.’

  ‘It’s a bold stroke.’ Armstrong rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘But, in my opinion, a very risky one..:

  A loud warning cry from a lookout on a yard-arm high overhead interrupted the conversation, causing both men to look up sharply. The silhouetted sailor was pointing and gesturing towards a single Japanese boat that was being rowed swiftly towards the Susquehanna’s stern. When they turned to scrutinize the craft, both Rice and Armstrong saw that it was filled to the gunwales with civili
an Japanese. All without exception were peering intently towards the flagship but they did not appear to be wearing any kind of uniform and there was no sign that they carried any arms.

  ‘How extraordinary,’ exclaimed Armstrong, training his telescope on the approaching vessel. ‘It looks like it’s crowded with artists. They seem to be drawing and painting absolutely everything in sight!’

  As the boat came closer, it became unmistakably clear that all those on board were working with a furious energy; recording every visible detail of the looming warships: their masts, sails, paddle-wheels, funnels; their flags, their personnel, and their light and heavy cannon.

  Lieutenant Rice quickly summoned a hovering midshipman and despatched him to the main deck with orders for the boat to b warned off with threats. If necessary; he added, a marine detachment should fire a live volley above their heads. Within minutes the Japanese boat was retreating, but the dark heads of its artists remained bent intently over their work as they continued to paint and draw in a controlled frenzy

  ‘It’s obvious we’re up against a meticulous people,’ murmured Rice as he watched the boat retreat. ‘They’re not only implacable enemies - they also seem very eager to learn.’

  Armstrong nodded in agreement; then another thought struck him and he frowned. ‘I’ve just heard, Lieutenant, that we may have lost a man overboard in the night. That sounds very unfortunate.’

  ‘Where did you hear this rumour, Mr. Armstrong?’

  ‘Mr. Harris made mention of it.’

  Rice remained tight-lipped, peering again towards the shore, and the silence lengthened to a minute or more. ‘I want you to treat what I’m about to tell you in absolute confidence, Mr. Armstrong,’ he said at last. ‘No matter what rumours are flying around, the crew is not to be given this information. You must know of it because it will affect your duties.’

  ‘Of course: responded the missionary, his face suddenly tense with anticipation. ‘Who has disappeared?’

  ‘Lieutenant Robert Eden - who I think is very well known to you.’

  ‘Good heavens! I can hardly believe it?

  ‘Lieutenant Eden failed to take command of his morning watch two hours before dawn,’ said Rice grimly, ‘so I immediately ordered a search of the ship. His uniform and cap were eventually found hidden beneath some old sails in the stowage area under the fo’c’s’le.’

  ‘May the Good Lord preserve him!’ gasped Armstrong. ‘What on earth could have possessed him...?’

  ‘The Japanese castaway quartered under the fo’c’s’le was also found to be absent,’ continued Rice, ignoring the interruption. ‘And Lieutenant Eden’s pistol was missing from his cabin.’

  ‘So he’s slipped overboard armed and taken our castaway as his guide,’ said Armstrong incredulously. ‘Why in heaven’s name would he do that?’

  ‘Just after midnight Lieutenant Eden came to my cabin and suggested a secret spying patrol should be sent ashore. He’d been on secret sorties behind enemy lines in Mexico, and believed such a mission might help avoid bloodshed here..’ Rice paused and drew a long breath. ‘He then volunteered to go alone with the castaway.’

  ‘He’s almost bound to be killed!’ Armstrong’s forehead creased into a frown and he turned to stare towards the forts and the wood-covered hills that stretched inland as far as the eye could see. The throb of the gongs and drums was growing louder again as the US Navy cutters neared the beach and more columns of Japanese fighting men were becoming visible, streaming down from the heights. ‘It’s hard to believe that he could be so foolhardy. He could start a war single-handed!’

  ‘Maybe he has already,’ said Rice heavily.

  ‘Does Commodore Perry know about this?’

  ‘I informed our flagship commander as soon as I was sure that Lieutenant Eden was no longer on board. 14e went immediately to wake the commodore.’

  ‘I should think steam came out of his ears.’ The missionary closed his eyes at the thought. ‘This madness could compromise the whole expedition.’

  Rice shook his head emphatically. ‘It would take more than a moment of madness to deflect Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry from his great mission. Nothing is to be allowed to stand in the way. His decision was instantaneous - arid very simple:

  Lieutenant Eden is to be officially disowned.’

  Armstrong raised his eyebrows in astonishment:

  ‘How?’

  ‘The commodore has directed that, when the Japanese come aboard again, you are to take them into your confidence at an appropriate moment:

  Rice paused and lowered his voice. ‘After official negotiations are completed, you are to draw aside their interpreter and explain informally that one of our officers has disobeyed orders and left the ship without any authority whatsoever. You’re to say we greatly regret this folly and ask their assistance in locating him and bringing him back on board as soon as possible. But you are to explain further that if Eden is harmed or killed during efforts to capture him, they’ll receive no protest from us. And tell them too that once he’s back on board, he will be placed under close arrest

  Armstrong let out a long, low whistle. ‘And what about our unfortunate Japanese castaway? He’ll be in dire danger too.’

  ‘You’re to explain that we were bringing him home as an act of compassion and that he also left the jurisdiction of this ship without our permission. Say further that our only wish was to return him unharmed to his homeland. But in view of his disobedience to our orders, his fate is now to be left entirely to their discretion.’ Rice paused again and looked Armstrong steadily in the eye. ‘Are all those points absolutely clear?’

  Armstrong nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Lieutenant, you’re saying that Robert Eden and Sentaro are really on their own out there now

  ‘You may feel the decision is severe; said Rice vehemently. ‘But just because I pass on these orders, don’t think I necessarily agree with them. Robert Eden’s a good friend of mine...’

  Armstrong sighed resignedly. ‘It’s to be greatly regretted - but perhaps there was no alternative course. Eden’s actions have been very headstrong.’

  ‘I threatened to clap them both in irons at one point last night,’ said Rice fiercely ‘I’m sorry now that I didn’t.’

  ‘Don’t blame yourself, Lieutenant; said the missionary in a conciliatory voice. ‘You weren’t to know. There’s nothing to do now but pray for them both - and we might soon need a prayer for ourselves, by the looks of things...’

  Armstrong took out his telescope again and focused it on the four Navy cutters that were continuing to forge along the coast. He saw that new phalanxes of scarlet-clad soldiers were marching rapidly along the shore, abreast of the American boats. Some carried brightly coloured banners which they implanted vigorously in the beach at intervals, and the leading ranks were already beginning to embark in a score of empty craft which had been drawn up in readiness at the water’s edge.

  ‘It looks as though they intend to intercept us,’ breathed Armstrong. ‘It will be difficult to avoid a confrontation’

  As they watched, the first Japanese boats formed a disciplined line and moved across the path of the advancing US cutters. Others, as soon as they were launched, began to spread out purposefully in different directions so as to encircle the cutters on all sides. Fast, and identical in design to the guard-boats which had first approached the American warships, these new craft were rowed with a speed and confidence which suggested that they were carrying out well- rehearsed war manoeuvres.

  ‘At the very least this will be a severe test of our resolve,’ grunted Rice, watching intently through his own glass. ‘The officers on our cutters have instructions not to flinch.’

  At that moment orders shouted by the lieutenants commanding the four cutters rang simultaneously across the quiet water. In response, the US seamen were seen to back their oars and snatch up their carbines. With deliberate ostentation they adjusted the caps on the weapons and held them at the ready across their laps.

/>   Silence returned to the bay for a second or two before another order rang out, followed by a sharp flurry of noise as the American oarsmen clamped steel bayonets to the muzzles of their carbines. With the Japanese fighting boats closing in swiftly all around them, the broad, knife-shaped bayonets flashed like tiny mirrors in the bright morning sunlight.

  ‘What orders do our officers on the cutters carry?’ asked Armstrong, still holding his telescope jammed against his eye. ‘How far are they to go?’

  ‘They’ve been directed to row four miles up the bay,’ grunted Rice. ‘Soundings are to be taken all the way. And they’re not to turn back or retreat until summoned by the firing of a gun from this flagship.’

  The leading American cutter was moving slowly again, nosing closer to the line of Japanese military boats blocking its passage. Only half of its seamen were now rowing; the remainder were cradling their carbines in readiness for use. As the cutter approached them, forests of spears bristled suddenly from the Japanese boats, and Armstrong drew in his breath sharply, seeing that a collision was imminent.

  ‘We need a miracle,’ he gasped. ‘Surely to God we need a miracle!’

  The bows of the first cutter launched from the Susquehanna scraped against the side of one Japanese boat, drawing furious shouts of anger from its crew They brandished their spears more angrily and in response the American seamen lifted their carbines to their shoulders. The shouting from the Japanese grew louder, and with frenzied gestures they indicated that the cutter should turn back. But its commander, now standing belligerently in the stern, continued to urge his rowers on arid, by skilful use of the tiller at the last possible moment, he nudged his craft cautiously through the defensive line of guard-boats into open water.

  The three accompanying cutters quickly followed and all the American boats spurted ahead again. Amidst howls of anger, the Japanese boats turned and began sculling furiously after them. More craft were being launched from the shore, and the growing Japanese flotilla began fanning out swiftly across the bay to form another defensive line. Amongst the growing throng of boats it was becoming difficult to keep the cutters fully in view from the deck of the Susquehanna, and Armstrong shook his head in alarm.